The heart no longer beats
by TW-addict
Summary: AU OC - What if Brian's attack left Kayla more than injured? - 'If he said that one simple word this would never have happened. "Stay". That one word could've changed everything'. Sad. Angsty. Death. Stiles/oc please R & R
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: teen wolf is not mine - anyways, I have been writing funny and happy stuff lately so I think it's time for some angst don't you think? Haha *don't kill me* ;)**

Stiles felt ready to throw up he was that nervous. His stress levels were sky high, his heart hammering in his chest with so much force he was surprised his ribs hadn't broke under the sheer force, his palms sweaty as he rubbed them off on his jeans.

They had been waiting here for _hours_ , all of them. Hardly any words passed between them, all too sick to the stomach to think properly let alone speak.

His foot was jiggling up and down, his thumb nail stuck between his teeth as he gnawed on it, his skin torn and bleeding but still he didn't stop, far too engrossed in his thoughts to care.

He should've listened to her when she said Brian was back, should've taken her more seriously. Instead he played it off as nothing, convincing her she had nothing to worry about from Brian's return because denial and avoidance was his thing and look where it got them...

He just should've _listened_ to her, full stop. He should've gone with her, not letting her out of his sight. But he didn't, he let her go and now she was fighting for her life because of him, because of Brian, because of some deranged insane revenge mission.

If he said that one simple word this would never have happened.

 _"Stay"_

That one word could've changed everything.

He dropped his thumb from his mouth only to replace it with his lip, peeling away the dry and chapped skin, his feet continuously tapping on the floor.

Oh god... How long had she been in surgery? It seemed endless, like he was trapped with the four walls closing in on him. His anxiety increased, breaking out in a cold sweat as he blinked back the burning tears trying to force their way forward, his vision blurring.

It wasn't supposed to be like this... None of this was supposed to _happen._

One of the last things she said to him was that she loved him, that she wanted nothing more than to make things work for them. And he did too, he wanted that, more than **anything**. He honest to god thought things were looking up.

They were close to beating the next big bad, his grades had improved, he got his girl back after thinking he had lost her for good and now that possibility was real.

He could lose her. He already could've lost her. She could be... God, she could be _dead_.

Her injuries were bad, he knew that just by looking at the blood on his dad's sleeves. She was alone and in pain, bleeding out from a femur fracture so deadly it sent her into hypovolemic shock, struggling for air because her lungs were collapsing, suffocating her slowly from the inside out.

A dragged out agony.

He wiped his wet cheeks with the back of his hand, his eyes rimmed red as he laid his elbows on his knees, placing his exhausted head into his hands.

" _I don't want to lose you, never ever Stiles, promise me"_

He had promised. Of course he had. But now? It was _him_ loosing _her,_ slowly and surely feeling her slipping away.

He tried not to think that way but some part of him just felt it. He knew, deep down, he had already lost her. They _all_ had.

As soon as the door to the cramped waiting room opened Stiles jumped up first, his eyes wide and pleading, praying to whatever God out there that he was just being stupid, being negative, being _wrong_. Right now he couldn't live without her, she had taken too much of his heart already, without her he was _empty._

The doctors' eyes were hollow and sad, his expression mundane and Stiles was sure, just by looking into his dark eyes, how many horrors that man had seen. Horrors that would make anyone _scream._

"What happened?" Stiles demanded, well aware of Derek brushing his arm in his haste to stand up, "w-where is she?"

His voice shook, his throat closing as his stomach churned uncomfortably, his legs weak.

No... This wasn't happening.

"I'm sorry-"

No. _No_. No way. _**No**_. This was _Kayla_ they were talking about. **No.** No way in hell.

"-her injuries were far too extensive-"

' _Then fix her'_ he felt like screaming but his mouth wouldn't work, the blood rushing to his ears.

"-the bleeding was too much-"

Was this what it came to? Dying because of blood loss? No... **_No._** He slowly shook his head, the doctors' words not registering with him.

Kayla was fine. She _had_ to be. They promised each other. He... He _needed_ her dammit, he wanted to spend every second he had next to her. It couldn't be over... Not like this. He loved her... He _loved_ her... He couldn't lose her, he just _couldn't_. Not now, not ever.

"-she flatlined twice-"

Stiles fell back a step, his knees knocking together. Apart of him, the irrational fucked up emotional part of him wanted to laugh because of course she did, _of course_ she flatlined twice, she was a fighter through and through, fighting and clawing her way back. She was being Kayla. Strong. Stubborn. Determined. Everything he had fallen in love with.

"-and we couldn't save her... I'm sorry"

 _Sorry?_ He was _sorry_ was he?

 _ **Sorry?**_

No... Stiles was sorry that the most unique, strong, beautiful, giving person he had met was robbed of the most wonderful life. He would've made sure she had that... A life full of colour, of laughter. He would've made sure she smiled even when she felt ready to fall to the world's challenges. He would've treated her right. He would've given her everything she wanted without her having to ask because he _knew_ her, inside and out, bad side and good, and was prepared to make her happy. No.. _. Elated. Joyful. Whole._

He always just wanted to make her laugh.

To see her smile.

See that cute nose crinkle she did that always made him weak in the knees.

He just wanted to share his life with her, that was all.

And now...

She brought out the best of him, made him see the world with his eyes wide open.

She was his heart. His soul. He had given it to her... No... She had taken it, probably after the first snarky comment she made. His heart and soul was in that operating table. His heart may as well not be beating.

 _Just like hers._

"... N-No" he muttered, shaking his head as burning hot tears spilled down his cheeks, "no... No she's not... She _can't_ be-"

Derek was frozen next to him, Allison and Lydia starting to cry, Isaac still and Scott shocked.

"I'm sorry for your loss"

Loss wasn't a strong enough word for what he felt. He felt void, _**empty.**_ Every molecule of his body screaming in blinding agonising pain. Her heart, the sound he listened to so often, that melodic steady hum that was _always_ so constant and strong was... It was...

It was _silent._

"No" he repeated, shaking his head, "y-you've made a mistake... She's not d-dead... Kayla's not-"

Because _**no.**_

How could he lose her when he just found her?

"There was nothing we could do"

"Shut up" Stiles exclaimed, pointing an angry finger at the doctor as his hand shook, tears flowing down his pale cheeks, _"shut up.._. You didn't save her... You _killed_ her"

He jerked his arm away from Derek, his sadness bubbling to the surface and changing to anger, pure and raw.

"She's... She can't be... I need to see her"

"Mr Stilinski no-"

But he was gone, shoving past the doctor and stumbling his way down the corridor, his feet dragging behind him. Maybe if he saw her, if he saw with his own two eyes, maybe she would be fine, maybe he could help her...

... _Maybe_ he could save her.

The double doors swung open as he fell into the operating room and instantaneously the smell of blood made him want to double over. It was poignant bitter and metallic, eating away at his stomach lining, whatever colour left draining from his face.

His heart stuttered before racing, his skin turning cold.

"You can't be in here"

He ignored the nurse, only registering the fact her scrubs were drenched in smears and splatters of blood, his watery gaze landing on the sole table in the middle of the room.

He felt sick to the stomach, his hands clenching at his sides.

 _ **No...**_

"Mr, you can't-"

He shook off her arm, his feet moving forward on their own accord, tears dribbling off his jaw line as he gazed down at the table, a sheet soaking with blood covering something.

Something eerily the shape of a body.

His bottom lip shook, wobbling as his throat ached, unable to stop the torrent of lava tears that scorched their way down his tears, splashing onto the pristine white sheet turning Crimson.

The smell was stronger here. The blood burning his nostrils but he _had_ to see... He _had_ to see her... _Had_ to be sure.

His hands were shaking so much, his head spinning as he slowly pulled the sheet down to reveal dark hair and stopped, his body freezing.

That hair he always loved so damn much... Especially after a night of restless sleep, it would always be so wild and untameable, so much like herself.

A free spirit.

He dropped the sheet another couple of inches before loosing his nerve and pulling it all the way down to the tops of the shoulders, his lungs constricting painfully.

...

But... No... _This wasn't supposed to happen._

He was supposed to say _'stay'._

He was supposed to spend the rest of his life making her happy.

This... This wasn't right.

But it was, it was her. It was unmistakably _her._

 _His Kaylz._

Except for the rosy cheeks and tan skin, the smirk that pulled at her lips, her eyes that were always so bright, so _green._

They were shut, never to be opened again.

He would _never_ see those eyes again.

Like a tsunami wave everything hit him at once.

She was _gone._

She was _**dead.**_

Her face was still and slack but in a way she looked rather peaceful, like she was sleeping. Except when she was sleeping she was breathing.

She didn't look in pain anymore. She didn't look scared. She looked... Like an angel.

" _I love you more"_ she had told him with a smile, a smile so bright and happy it made his heart jump for joy.

 _"Love you more"_ he had replied, ecstatic over the fact he had her back. He got her back. **They loved each other.**

 _"Impossible"_ she had muttered with a playful smirk before disappearing from his sight, the last thing he saw was her chestnut hair disappearing around the corner.

That was the last words they spoke.

And now? Here she was... So still... So empty... _Gone_.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

"... K-Kaylz" he croaked, "please... Please do me a favour... Please just... Don't be dead"

She didn't answer, didn't even crack a smile.

All that was here was a bloody, battered and bruised shell.

He fisted the sheet around her that was covering her injuries, his breathing coming out as gasps, "Kayla... Don't be dead... Listen to me... _Don't be dead"_

 _ **"Please"**_

His heart was torn from his chest, loss eating him up from the inside out like a fungus.

 _ **"Please"**_

And he sobbed like he had never sobbed before.

Brokenly. Tiredly.

And that was how sheriff Stilinski found his son.

Bloodied.

Tear stained.

Heart broken.

Cradling his dead girlfriend's limp and broken body and not letting go. One word being whispered over and over again.

... _"Stay"_

 **A)n okay so y'all hate me probs army I hate me, I really do haha but please please review, I need to know if I managed to kill any of you haha hope you liked xx**


	2. Chapter 2 - The closing chapter

**Disclaimer: Teen wolf does not belong to me in any shape or form (sad face ha) anyway I know I wrote this ages ago but some people mentioned another chapter for the aftermath and you know I love me some angst haha so here is it, hope you all like**

Sheriff Stilinski had never seen a sight so tragic in all his life. So agonising and excruciating to watch. And knowing he couldn't do a damn thing to help his son, comfort him, was sorrowful. Forced to witness him begging, pleading, crying out for someone that wasn't there anymore. Cradling and trying to comfort an empty shell that was all bloody and bruised, crippled and shattered beyond repair.

This deep aching pain settled in his stomach, his gut twisting uncomfortably as he stepped forward, an unsettling headache forming between his temples at Stiles' distraught sobs, his chapped and bloodied lips screaming her name over and over again, like if he did it for long enough she would hear him and find her way back to him.

But that would never happen. Sheriff Stilinski knew that. His ageing eyes drifted to her still body, burning hot tears surging forward at the sight of her pale and bruised skin, blood smeared along her arms and the defibrillator pads still stuck along her chest where they unsuccessfully tried to restart her heart, black and blue patches forming along her breast bone from the sheer force of the CPR – all done in vain. All attempts unsuccessful and fruitless. For one heartbreaking second the sheriff wondered how much pain that would have caused her. Countless people working over her, desperate to get her heart pumping, using unlimited force and pressure, probably breaking several ribs in the process, and all for what? For her body to only end up more damaged and broken?

She didn't deserve this, not at all. No one did.

He took another step, trying to not look too closely at the dark red stained sheet that was slipping from her body, her broken and shattered leg on full display causing a wave of nausea to hit him, seeing it bent and crooked, bone and muscle still on show. It wasn't right. It wasn't _fair_.

He reached out, cupping Stiles' shoulders as they heaved with loud cries.

"Stiles… son…" he whispered from behind him, squeezing comfortingly, "… you have to let go"

"No… _no"_ Stiles claimed, letting out another choked sob as he pulled her limp and lifeless body closer to his chest, letting a hand drift across her cheek to hold her steady against his thundering heart, "No, no, she's _n-not_ d-dead, she's _not_ g-g-gone"

"Stiles…" he whispered, his voice faint and filled with so much heartbreak, "let her rest now"

His son just continued hovering over her body, protecting her and himself from the unsettling reality, "I-I can't… I-I can't l-leave her… she n-needs me"

"There's nothing you can do for her now" He said quietly, his voice breaking, "son, please… let her go"

"I-I-I sh-should've m-made her s-s-stay" he started sobbing uncontrollably, tears drenching her blood soaked body below, "I-I shouldn't h-have let her g-go… I p-promised I w-would n-never let h-her g-go…"

The sheriff felt a single burning tear roll down his worn face, endless despair and regret tearing his chest apart as he tightened his grip on Stiles' shoulders, "this isn't your fault son" he murmured, "and I am so sorry…"

He was forced to listen as Stiles just let out another uncontrollable cry of pain, hunching over her body and as much as the sheriff understood how hard it was to let go, he knew Stiles had to. He had to remember her as she was, not like this – not so… _broken_. Hollow. Empty. Not looking so destroyed.

"Son… please…" the sheriff whispered, pulling him back a little, "please come with me… please let her go"

Her body slowly slipped from Stiles' numb grasp, slumping back to the blood stained table and the sheriff felt suddenly claustrophobic, his nostrils clogged with copper blood, eyes scorching with hot tears, body aching with such deep profound sadness as Stiles whispered her name again in a quiet broken tone filled with pleading as he leaned down, pressing the faintest of kisses to her dry and bloodied lips.

One last goodbye.

"K-Kayla please… p-please don't l-leave me" he mumbled, her pale cheeks wettening from the onslaught of cascading tears down his own face, "please b-baby… I l-love you… I a-always will…"

So the sheriff just wrapped one arm around his waist, the other gripping his shoulder tightly as he gently tugged his limp body away, cradling him to his chest as he tried to tiredly flail his way out of his grasp, his whispers of her name turning into desperate wails the further and further away from her he got.

"No, n-no, stop, K-Kayla… d-dad please, d-don't, dad she n-needs me" he sobbed, the sudden flare of the hallways florescent lights attacking his bleary gaze but the sheriff just gave Stiles another gentle tug through the doors, "n-no, K-Kayla, dad _please_ -" he begged, "-s-she's going t-to b-be so c-cold, she's s-so c-c-cold" he cried out just as the double doors swung shut, her shattered and bruised body disappearing from sight, "n-n-no, n-no, K-Kayla… K-Kay _p-please-"_

But with that he collapsed in the sheriff's arms, aching legs sweeping out from underneath him as he sobbed in the middle of the hallway, his father's arms of no comfort to him.

And they all saw this. Each one of their friends.

Allison stood to one side, holding a distraught Lydia to her chest as she blinked through the never ending stream of tears, sharing a distressed and sorrowful look with Scott, his deep brown gaze full of sadness and regret as he slumped his shoulders in defeat, Isaac next to him just standing still, the shock not yet worn off, an aching feeling of loss evident in his wide blue gaze.

But then there was Derek. Stoic, hard headed Derek. He was in front of the others, his pale gaze settled on the distraught and inconsolable Stiles when it appeared the daunting reality suddenly hit him.

The sheriff saw it himself.

He watched as a wave of frenzy clouded over his eyes, his expression changing into fear and despair before he stumbled back into a wall, his knees giving way as he collapsed in a heap, completely shell shocked.

Because it wasn't just a friend they lost. It was a member of their pack, someone they each loved ever so dearly. Someone who had changed their lives for the better and now all they had left of her was some ageing memories. Memories that would eventually fade and narrow over time. Until, eventually, one by one they could be reunited once more somewhere when there was no pain, no sadness, just endless content forever.

* * *

Stiles gazed blankly at himself in the mirror, tired depressed brown eyes meeting his own gaze.

He didn't have the energy to function properly, let alone try to pretend he had his shit together. Just something as simple as a tie had him giving up, the loose material hanging down around his neck.

'Kayla would hate this' he thought to himself glumly, 'she always thoughts suits were way too formal'.

But it was a funeral… suits were a-given.

There he stood, dressed in his best black suit and white shirt, dark shiny shoes tied securely on his feet. But it wasn't the suit that was awful, it was him. He looked so bedraggled and empty, his stare hollow and void of any and all emotion.

Was this how it would always be? Would he always be feeling so… _sad?_

He heard a gently rap on his bedroom door but didn't even bother glancing up as Scott slowly walked in, his gentle and sympathetic brown gaze meeting Stiles' in the mirror.

"It's time" Scott announced quietly, "are you ready?"

Was he ready to bury his dead girlfriend? The answer was no, the answer would always be _no._

He didn't utter a single word in reply, letting his unsettled gaze meet his own in the reflection, his shoulders hunched and slumping in sadness.

Instead of trying to distract Stiles from the inevitable heartbreak soaring through his veins, Scott merely just stepped in further and mumbled, "do uh… do you need help with your tie?"

No answer, just as expected. But he received a simple and small one shouldered shrug so took that as an open invitation and walked up to him, reaching out for the tie.

"I uh… I'm not going to pretend how you feel" he heard Scott whisper, his nimble fingers making quick work of the tie, "but… but it will get better. Eventually"

"How do you know?" It was the first time Stiles had spoken in two days, his voice coming out low and broken, sending Scott a hopeless glance.

"Because it always does" Scott whispered, "the pain will never go away but it will lessen over time and then one day you won't just feel sad when you think about her, you'll be happy you got to know her"

Stiles let his eyes wander down to the tie Soctt had finished looping, his throat sore from the effort of trying not to cry, "Scott… she was the one. She was _my_ one" he admitted tragically, "I… I don't think I can do this"

"You can" his friend whispered encouragingly, cupping both his shoulders in a reassuring grip, "this is your chance to say goodbye…"

"I don't want to say goodbye though" he murmured finally letting a single tear drip down his cheek, "I want to say hello every morning… goodnight every night… I want to tell her I love her every single day… is that so much to ask for?"

Scott had no reply to that, his face washed with sadness.

".. go on" Stiles nodded, raising his hand to wipe underneath his nose, "I'll be right out"

Scott nodded back, squeezing his shoulder again, "you don't have to do this by yourself Stiles. You have all of us here for you, just remember that" and with that he quietly let himself out, leaving Stiles with his thoughts.

He was right, of course. He did have all his friends, his dad, but somehow that wasn't enough. He felt void around them, empty even. Like half of himself was missing. Which, in a way, it was. Half his heart wasn't beating because hers wasn't and he didn't know when, or if, he could ever get over that.

* * *

It was a closed service, only open to close family and friends. Her family thought it was better that way.

Kayla didn't like a fuss anyway.

The church was cold and empty, sad depressing music floating from the big piano in the corner and as soon as Stiles walked in, his eyes drifted towards the open casket placed in the centre just below the pew.

Because, for some reason, her mom thought it would be respectful to have an open casket funeral.

His breath left him in one big exhale, his skin tingling as his teary gaze landed on the oak coffin, the pristine white ruffled interior stood ablaze to the contrast of the dark wood and inside he just saw the raised outline of a still body.

And he froze. He just _froze_ , his limbs tensing.

She… she was _in_ there. Her body. But it wouldn't be the same as the last time he saw it, no. It would be placed respectively and neat, her hair brushed and washed, make up placed over the dark bruises that littered her body and made her skin look ghastly pale and dressed in clean clothes, no blood in sight.

… Maybe it would look like she was sleeping.

He hoped it would.

But, yet, the more he thought, the more he realised that was impossible.

Kayla never slept so still and rigid, she was a figeter. Her limbs making awkward shapes as she tossed and turned, her eyelashes fluttering as she slept.

Scott gently guided him to the front, the more steps he took-the closer he got to her coffin, the more uncomfortable he got.

She looked like Kayla but at the same time she didn't.

It wasn't his Kaylz, _not really._

Her skin looked hard and stiff, waxy even, like a doll, her arms placed across her stomach, dainty hands clasped loosely together. It just wasn't _right_. She was too stiff, too perfect. Like whoever placed her there had worked tirelessly ensuring she was symmetrical and balanced, not a single hair out of place.

And that just… it just wasn't _Kayla_ \- and that's what he loved about her. She didn't care if her hair was messy or her shorts were frayed, she couldn't care less if she showed bruises from her training or how unladylike her postures and actions were. But this body, this empty shell, was nothing short of perfection.

Simple black pants were free from creases and speckles of dust and dirt, the long sleeved grey shirt was unrumpled and her hair was straight and placed expertly underneath and around her shoulders, head propped up a little on the soft white cushion, even what little skin on show had been covered up from any bruising or inconsistencies, the hollows of her eyes filled in.

It was so damn perfect he wanted to scream.

Along with the others, he took a seat. Jody, Jane, Tabby, Derek, Peter and a few other extened family members Stiles hadn't met sat on one pew and he, Scott, Allison, Lydia, Isaac, Jackson and his father on the other side.

Simple – just like Kayla would've wanted.

The minister stepped forward, placing his worn hands against the wooden box he stood in, nodding his head sympathetically at them.

"Welcome all" he greeted, "we are here today to pay tribute to a yout life lost and celebrate the moments we each spent with her…"

After that Stiles tuned out. He couldn't listen. It was hard enough being here within ten feet of her empty body but having to sit still and listen… no, he _couldn't_.

Except when his attention got drawn to Derek, standing up slowly against the podium and casting his eyes downward.

"I… I…" Stiles let his eyes fall on the crestfallen man who looked like he was barely holding on by a fingernail, "I don't know what I can possibly say about Kayla that you all don't already know. She was as she was and I was so proud of her for that. For being herself… and that self was amazing" he choked up a little, having to clear his throat, "She taught me a lot about life and brought me back down to earth with a bang a few times. She had that ability, you see… to just… _know_. She was realistic and straightforward and grew up too fast. She may have been young but that was just an act. She had seen and faced more hardships that anyone I have ever known but she came back stronger but still just as caring… under that hard exterior she wore so well" he chuckled watery, his stare clogging up with tears, "and to me… to me she wasn't just a cousin. She was a friend" he said simply, "… a _sister_. And I loved her _so_ much" he wiped away a tear, casting his eyes downward again, "and now she's gone… she's gone. Forever. And this _is_ goodbye" he added simply, his stare wavering over to Kayla's form, "… but maybe now she finally gets that rest she deserves so much"

After that Stiles lost memory of what happened, Derek's speech hitting him in ways nothing had before. It was so pure, so raw and everything Stiles' wished he never had to hear.

If anything, he expected it to be him in that coffin way before Kayla. She had fight in her, fire burning through her veins. Except now all that was extinguished.

She lost her fight… but not without a hell of a battle.

He slid his eyes up, listening to Lydia crying into a tissue and Isaac rubbing at his eyes, his gaze falling on her still body just as the minister was about to close the lid and a surge of panic welled up inside him, realisation hitting home.

This was it.

No if's buts or maybes.

This. Was. It.

 _The closing chapter._

Blindly he stumbled to his feet, the entire church quieting at his abrupt and sudden stance, his panicked eyes burning with hot tears.

"Wait… w-wait" he croaked, his heart thundering against his chest.

"Stiles, son-" his dad mumbled warily, like he thought Stiles would go off the rails but he wasn't, not yet, not now, not here. Kayla didn't deserve that.

"I… I just need… I need…" he whispered, his gaze falling on her body again as he stepped out from the pew, ignoring everyone's curious and worried gazes on him as he stumbled forward but they never stopped him, knowing it was futile and knowing this was something he needed to do, not just for himself but for his sanity, for the bleak chance that maybe one day he could move on from this.

He stepped forward, his back turned away from the others as his teary stare met Kayla's closed lids, no eyelashes fluttering in sight.

Definitely not asleep.

It was an irrational and empty hope, he knew that. But a small part of him still expected Kayla to wake up, to show him those pretty green eyes he always loved so damn much but now he knew, for absolute certain, it wouldn't happen.

It hit him like a ton of bricks just as the lid was about to close. That there was no coming back from this. That the coffin would now be her final resting place.

Slowly he reached out with a single hand, jolting as his warm and clammy palm rested across her cold stiff hands and tried to quell the onslaught of heartbreak by squeezing her hands, trying to warm them up.

"I... I don't want this to be goodbye" he whispered, eyes zigzagging across her pale and sunken face, "I... Kaylz... I _can't_ let this be goodbye"

He got no reply. Just him standing there holding hands with his dead girlfriend.

"You were _it_ for me" he mumbled, "always and forever. I just knew. You weren't just the one Kaylz... You were _my_ one. The only one I ever wanted" he admitted in a small quiet voice, "and... And now you're gone. You're gone" he choked out, "and I honestly don't know if I can do it"

Because it was true, this sadness and heartbreak he had been feeling at her loss had consumed him, leaving him a nervous empty wreck.

"I need you back"

Again, no answer, no flicker of understanding. Nothing.

"... Kaylz... I uh... I... I love you okay?" He cried quietly, "so much... And I always will. _Always_. Don't forget that"

He let go with one hand, reaching into his suit pocket and pulling out the old crumpled sonogram picture she kept in her locker. Mia's first and only sonogram. Just about the only thing Kayla had to remember her dead daughter by.

"H-Have you found her?" He asked, gazing down at the black and white picture, "I hope you have... I hope you finally get the happiness you deserve"

Wordlessly he slipped the scan picture between her stiff grip.

Mother and daughter reunited once more.

And with tears streaming down his cheeks he slowly leaned down, pressing the softest of kisses to her cool forehead, his lips quivering as he tried to be strong, to hold it together for her.

"... This isn't g-goodbye..." He whispered, lips still pressed to her skin, "... It's a see you later..." and then he gently and slowly pulled back, gazing down at her closed lids and memorising how peaceful she looked, how content, just before he started to sob.

But only he knew of the words scribbled on the back of the sonogram picture, words that would never be seen, buried with her under six feet of dirt for years and years to come. Words that brought a small smile to Stiles' lips as he lay there on his own deathbed.

...

 _'Wait for me'_

 _..._

Smiling because he knew, with _all_ certainty, she would.

 **A)N OKAY I'm not gonna lie I cried, I fuckinf cried, why do I do this!? Ahhhh hha omg tho I seriously hope you all liked (or not cos EMOTIONS MUCH) lol but please please leave your thoughts I'm so eager to hear lol love you all xxx**


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